The Last Farewell
by meowbooks
Summary: This tale begins like many others have on a cold wintry night, on a shore, in the sand. A young boy sat, cross legged in the sand. He had a fine tasseled sword in his lap, long and silver, glinting in the moonlight like the eyes of a cat...
1. Part One

**Disclaimer/Summary**: No, no, not mine. Okay, let's see 5 years after the Maelstrom Elizabeth hears a voice she never expected to hear again. I'm quite pleased with it so any comments good or bad are appreciated.

**The Last Farewell**

Part One

This tale begins like many others have on a cold wintry night, on a shore, in the sand. A young boy sat, cross legged in the sand. He had a fine tasseled sword in his lap, long and silver, glinting in the moonlight like the eyes of a cat. He looked up at the stars wondering about many scars-the stories behind them occurred before he was born.  
There was one on the palm of his mother's right hand put there by a cursed man. Later, he would be an ally, presiding her wedding when time was short. There was one on her shoulder from a cannon blast that saved her, yet nearly severed her life. A few feet more and she would've been like her unfortunate host. She would've never been captured by one of the last links to her past.  
The boy is called by a distant voice. He sheathed the sword and ran across the sand. _Mum, won't like it if she has to call twice_.

Elizabeth sat in her wooden chair by the fire, a book in her lap. The door behind her creaked open. She frowned, but didn't turn around.There was silence then a cheerful,"Hello!"  
She shook her head and smiled. It was far too late for him to be up. "Jamie..."  
"My name is William James Turner, pleased to meet you!" Oh. Well, they'd have to practice meeting father tomorrow it was much too--  
"As am I." Elizabeth's eyes slowly left the book to stare into memory where the replying voice belonged. She saw him standing there, but what she saw kept changing. Brown hair tied back with black cloth smirking about a short stop and a sudden drop. No, bowing and holding out his hand to dance just as she had thought young Ms. Perkins couldn't be more unbearably conceited. The wind was blowing the white feathers on his hat, in full brocaded dress for the ceremony, his commanding presence wavering, as she struggled to tell him why she was breathless. There was mud dripping from a ragged wig, the strange beard,and familiar eyes, but the voice she knew was changed.No,no,no one second to comprehend she'd never look into those green eyes again...  
"Are you looking for mum?" Elizabeth stood, the book fell to the ground, she whirled around. The tall visitor had a small amused smile on his face as his eyes met her's, "James?"  
"Uh-huh!" piped Jamie. "Mr. Gibbs says his sense of humor was squished when they put a heavy hat on his head." Elizabeth blinked, smiled and picked up the small boy. "Did he?_You_ should be in bed."  
"But Mister..." Jamie paused and looked at his new friend realizing he didn't know his name. "He's visiting and you said when we have visitors I can sit up with you.I don't know his name yet."  
"Yes, you do." She looked at him. "This is James Norrington."


	2. Part Two

**Disclaimer/Summary**: No, no, not mine. Okay, let's see 5 years after the Maelstrom Elizabeth hears a voice she never expected to hear again. I'm quite pleased with it so any comments good or bad are appreciated.

Part Two

The small boy's eyes widened, he wiggled out of his mother's embrace and nearly dove into a wooden chest in the corner. He ran back with a slim wooden case tucked under his arm. Smiling, he held it out. "It's yours." James' gaze lingered on the black box before he took it and placed it on the lone table in the room. He didn't open it.

Elizabeth kneeled down to tuck a strand of hair behind Jaime's ear. She sighed, "You shouldn't have been playing with that."

Jaime crossed his arms, pouting up at her. "I didn't _play_ with it and I was…practicing." Elizabeth lowered her gaze. _Not yet, I couldn't bear it._ She looked at his tiny face of defiance. She sighed, "There will be time for swords…later. Promise me, until then, you won't."

"By the Code?" he asked hopefully. She smiled. He always liked it when she smiled. Especially after she had looked so sad a moment before. "If you must."

"I say by the code I won't or may I be eaten by the Pelegostos." Jaime said solemnly. James chuckled at the little oath. Elizabeth had nearly forgotten about him being there and smiled wider. The young Turner didn't see it their way unfortunately. He rounded on the much taller man.

"The Code is not to be laughed at,"he said sternly. "If this were a ship and I were captain you'd be properly punished says I!"

James backed away holding up his hands all contrite he said.""My apologies, I never intended to offend. What might the proper punishment be, sir?" The young Turner blinked. That wasn't what he expected. He tilted his head to one side and considered him carefully. The boy pushed a wooden chair next to him. "Sit!" The offender,James Norrington, former Commodore of His Majesty's Royal Navy, dutifully obeyed. "A story! The captain would like to hear a story--and it'll better be a good one or by Poseidon's trident it's the cat for you, Norrington."

Jaime pulled his mother's chair closer and bowed. Elizabeth took this as an invitation to sit as well. She had to keep herself from laughing out loud or risk having to tell a story as well. James grinned as well before changing his expression to one of seriousness, "Does Captain Turner have a preference as to the content of said story?"

"Yes, he does." nodded the boy. "Captain Turner would like to hear about when his fierce mother and former pirate king was a proper lady."

"Very well. " James cleared his throat, "Your mother was once a fine lady, the daughter of the well respected Governor Swann in Port Royal, Jamaica. I first met her as a second lieutenant on her crossing from England..." The story continued with many prompts from Jaime such as, "No, the most wicked and notorious Sparrow!" or "say you were the most feared,most loyal to King and country navy man in all of the Spanish Main, that sounds more fascinating" until the imagined captain's act faded away and Jaime Turner fell asleep in his mother's arms.

"I better put him to bed..." said Elizabeth excusing herself to carry the tired storyteller away. James listened to her footsteps fade to silence before stretching and standing up from his chair. Only then, did he open the wooden case that had sat forgotten during his 'punishment', knowing full well what would be in it. "_This is a beautiful sword. I would expect the man who made it to show the same care and devotion in every aspect of his life." _And he had. It strange to note how correct, no, how true that observation would be. It was a curious thing-just like the sword that sat in front of him.

The tassel had faded, the fibers were more worn as was the handle, but as James lifted it he saw it was, still, despite what it had been through, well balanced, strong, and beautiful sword a testament to it's maker's skill. The world had lost quite a swords smith to the sea. A ceremony of pomp and celebration, threatening a notorious pirate, battling the undead, silently sheathed in respect for the fallen, releasing a the future king of a pirate court from a promise, it's owner's absence, return and final act of defiance. And now, witness to a young boy's admiration and it's former owner's wonder.

" I recognized it was yours only after he left." James turned and Elizabeth held out her hand. Lowering the sword, he handed it to her hilt first. "I pulled it out of the sand and..." she paused watching the firelight flicker across the blade. "I could hardly believe it. It makes you wonder doesn't it?"

"Yes," he nodded. She handed the sword back to him, she paused and looked at him,"Thank you."

"I was wondering when we'd come to that."James smirked setting the sword back in it's case and closing it. Elizabeth bit her lip and laughed,"I spent half the time thinking about what I'd say if he asked why you were here."

He nodded and looked at her, "William James Turner, I'm honored."

"No, no, I am." she said shaking her head, "I-"

"-- have become a finer women than the one I proposed to all those years who should not look so guilty." James smiled. "I found my peace. I hope you do as well." He took a letter out and set it on the sword case. Turning towards her, he held out his hand. Elizabeth shook it and pulled him into an embrace. And for one brief moment , though they didn't know it, both of them dared imagined what might have been.

They parted. Elizabeth quietly watched him walk out the door before taking up the letter, breaking the heart shaped seal, she unfolded it.

Elizabeth,

_ I do not know when this will reach you. Time moves differently between worlds, but have confidence in the knowledge I ask the day often. I will honor my duty, but not for one breath more than I must. There are many questions, but I will answer the one about your recent visitor. _

_ It's taken me this long to find him. Jones did not grant the Last Farewell, the chance to say goodbye to loved ones until reunited, to the worthy souls who had earned it. I owe him that at the very least. He has not yet decided whether he will stay aboard the Dutchman after he returns. If not, I've enjoyed the conversations we have had and you'll be pleased to hear we've better acquainted ourselves. _

_ Father has told me Jaime has talent at storytelling. I suspect Gibbs had a hand in that. Ah well, as long as he isn't using his new found talent to trouble you… _

_ Ever loving you and our son in both worlds,_

_ Will_


End file.
